JSWGAS Chapter 66

At that time, what exactly did he mean by what he said?

The black-haired boy sitting in the corner of the classroom propped his chin up languidly, staring at the textbook open in front of him, writing and drawing with a pen. Clumps of raven-black ink dotted the blank paper, and the chaotic lines only took on a name when the writer came back to his senses.

Countless stacked names: Yatsumotogi Suzume.

Lines were just lines, but as Kokonoe Taka looked down at them, he felt as if he saw Suzume’s eyes in the black ink. Unreal, unfocused eyes, staring straight at him from another world.

He stared at those imaginary eyes for a few seconds, and the teacher’s voice from the podium woke him up: “Kokonoe, please answer this question.”

All kinds of gazes, some obvious and some subtle, were cast around him. Kokonoe Taka stood up slowly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor, making a “creak–” sound that made one’s scalp tingle.

He only glanced at the question on the blackboard and got the answer – why could he solve the problem so quickly, but couldn’t find the answer to that sentence?

“Option D.” He answered absentmindedly, seeing the teacher give a satisfied smile and nod, telling him to sit down. After he sat down, he looked down again at the words he had scribbled on the textbook just now, but found that the pair of eyes hidden in the chaotic lines had disappeared.

And the real owner of the imaginary eyes obviously had no intention of dispelling his confusion. To be precise, Kokonoe Taka had never seen Yatsumotogi Suzume again since that evening.

Yatsumotogi Suzume’s parents were an ordinary couple. When he went to visit his friend again, they apologetically stopped him, telling Kokonoe Taka that their son refused any visitors. The hospital room door was tightly closed, standing silently in front of him like an isolated island.

Did I say something wrong?

He wanted to ask him, did I do something wrong?

After saying goodbye to his friend’s parents, Kokonoe Taka walked down the hospital stairs all the way, out of the hospital. Turning around, he looked up, searching for the window belonging to Yatsumotogi Suzume among the layers and rows of copied and pasted windows.

All the windows reflected the sun’s rays, isolating the people inside and outside, isolating light and shadow. Quietly, the person he was expecting did not appear behind any of the windows.

He couldn’t find him.

–Why won’t you even give me a chance to meet?

He continued his basketball club training as usual, playing ball, seemingly nothing had changed, but seemingly everything had changed. Nijimura Shūzō was the first to notice something was wrong. “What happened?” One day, he blocked Kokonoe Taka’s path to the club activity room aggressively. The person blocked by him sighed, “I’m just a little tired.”

“You and Suzume said the same thing.” Nijimura Shūzō firmly refused to let him go. “Or do you think you can fool me?”

Kokonoe Taka saw worry on Nijimura Shūzō’s face. His eyes were bright, as if they had never been trapped by gloom. But Kokonoe knew that wasn’t true. He looked at the friend who had once run with him on the highway at night, he was a loyal friend, a mutual friend of theirs.

He was so confused, so eager to get an answer, his expression had a stubbornness that wouldn’t let him go unless he answered, but Kokonoe Taka also wanted to know that answer.

“I’m just a little uneasy.” He lowered his eyes, and the loose hair falling over his forehead blocked the emotions leaking out from within. “Suzume has always been by our side, since the first match.”

Nijimura Shūzō couldn’t help but recall those memories with his words. He softened his brows, and the arm blocking Kokonoe Taka’s path wasn’t so rigid anymore. “Yeah.”

“Even if Suzume doesn’t play sometimes, as long as I think he’s behind me, I feel like I can do anything.” Kokonoe Taka said softly. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and part of the truth was swallowed into his stomach, hidden tightly by him.

“–I’m just a little uneasy because of this.”

“…But even if Suzume can’t play in the next game, he will continue to be by our side.” Nijimura Shūzō ruffled Kokonoe Taka’s hair. The other party had shot up a section after entering the third grade. Nijimura Shūzō was slightly shorter than him, and it was a bit awkward to touch his hair. Noticing this, Kokonoe Taka bowed slightly. “We’ll give him the championship we win. And then we’ll play ball together after he recovers–”

Nijimura Shūzō absentmindedly curved his eyes.

“Kokonoe… is someone who is very afraid of being alone.”

After this, Akashi Seijūrō became Kokonoe Taka’s fixed partner. Their levels were very high, and they could keep up with each other’s rhythm, but only the parties involved knew some things: their cooperation lacked something.

Akashi Seijūrō walked up the stairs in the afternoon, opened the door at the end of the stairs, and came to a wide-open roof. The wind howled as it passed over the cement floor, lamenting as if weeping, and other than that, there was a silence of no one.

He just glanced around slightly, then strode in a certain direction.

The sound of footsteps stopped after coming in front of Kokonoe Taka. The latter was leaning against the wall in the corner of the roof, with his legs bent, one hand hanging relaxed by his side, and his eyes closed, seemingly asleep. Akashi Seijūrō quietly examined his somewhat pale face. It wasn’t until the person being stared at helplessly opened his eyes: “Why aren’t you talking?”

Kokonoe Taka’s eyes were clear, he didn’t move, just looked up at the junior standing in front of him.

Akashi Seijūrō answered, “I thought you were resting, senpai.”

“If I kept leaning here, would you keep waiting?” Kokonoe Taka chuckled, stretching out his bent long legs. He let go of the topic and instead asked, “What do you want from me?” He didn’t ask Akashi Seijūrō why he knew he was here.

“Senpai has been a little restless recently.” He pointed out euphemistically, “Are you not adapting to my playing style?”

Kokonoe Taka stared at him: “Why do you say that?”

Even the coach, after watching their cooperation, didn’t point out any shortcomings, and the win rate of the matches hadn’t decreased.

“Not raising a problem is the biggest problem.” Akashi Seijūrō’s voice echoed in this open space. “Because the cooperation between senpai and me is as perfect as a textbook–in other words, it is full of routine rigidity.”

It was as if they were just mechanically running programs, unable to feel pure trust.

So that’s it.

Kokonoe Taka no longer met his junior’s gaze, and lowered his head to knead his palms: “Sorry.” He breathed out. “It’s my problem.”

“Can I know why?”

Kokonoe Taka didn’t notice that Akashi Seijūrō was a little too calm. “The team needs senpai Kokonoe’s strength.” His junior explained softly.

“…” He closed his eyes. “Akashi.” He murmured in confusion, more like asking himself, “If someone suddenly says they don’t want to be with you… what would be the reason?”

His clumsy disguise was exposed by the tactless junior: “Did senpai Yatsumotogi tell you that?”

“How did you…?” Kokonoe Taka suddenly raised his head, crashing into the deep red pupils.

Akashi Seijūrō slightly raised his chin: “It’s easy to see.”

“…Is that so.” Kokonoe Taka avoided his gaze. “That’s true.”

After all, it’s Akashi. He thought self-deprecatingly.

“If senpai Yatsumotogi said that,” Akashi Seijūrō revealed the answer, “I think–it’s because of your inequality.”

Unequal talent ultimately leads to unequal side-by-side battles. Sparrows and eagles cannot fly together, and one of them is destined to leave the stage first.

Kokonoe Taka was stunned.

It was like suddenly having the ending of a novel spoiled, and in an instant, everything became clear.

His mind was intensely colliding, one moment it was Yatsumotogi Suzume laughing and giving him a high-five, the next moment it was Yatsumotogi Suzume pale on the hospital bed. His pained eyes, his sad gaze, his clenched hands. In the end, why would he look at himself like that – it was like, like–

–as if he had abandoned him first.

Akashi Seijūrō’s voice blew past like the wind.

“Senpai Kokonoe.”

His gaze seemed to be silently inquiring.

“What are you going to do?”

…

…………

Kokonoe Taka hated hospitals.

He had to lie in bed to rest, his activity range was only a pitiful floor, the hospital food was especially unpalatable, and in the dead of night, twisted memories constantly grew. The smell of disinfectant was like some kind of ominous sign, making him feel a physiological aversion.

He didn’t see the Yatsumotogi couple. He just gently knocked on the door, and after a familiar voice responded from inside. “Suzume, it’s me.”

The ward immediately fell silent, as if no one was there.

But he knew Yatsumotogi Suzume was listening.

“Suzume.” Kokonoe Taka called his friend’s name again, “–I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“Didn’t notice your fatigue, didn’t notice that you’ve been working hard all this time…” He went to ask Kise and Kuroko, who had the longest contact with Yatsumotogi Suzume during this time, and heard from them that Yatsumotogi Suzume was the last to leave every day; Nijimura Shūzō said that he often spaced out; from the coach, he saw his appearances gradually decreasing.

Haizaki told him about Yatsumotogi Suzume’s somewhat ugly face when they played against Jōhoku; Midorima heard from a chatty teacher that they complained about Yatsumotogi Suzume always writing self-criticisms for sleeping in class; Murasakibara said that he had seen Yatsumotogi Suzume in the cafeteria, and he ate very little.

So much, so many things, filling in the blanks he didn’t know.

“…I know a lot from them.” He said softly, slowly resting his head against the cold surface of the hospital room. “I had so many chances. But in the end, I actually had to learn about you from other people.”

“I only cared about myself.” He couldn’t help but clench his palms, his nails piercing his skin, pinching out crescent-shaped wounds. “Only cared about playing ball happily, only cared about moving forward…”

He was the one who abandoned him first.

“I’m sorry.”

He remembered Yatsumotogi Suzume’s tolerance of him at the beginning. He was the first to reach out to him, pulling him into the crowd and letting him experience the fun.

Yatsumotogi Suzume didn’t care about his ignorance, and patiently taught him from small skills. Many of the techniques Kokonoe Taka used now bore his shadow, and Suzume always responded to him. Even if it was just an uncertain idea, or a deliberate prank.

“Suzume.” Kokonoe Taka leaned against the door in the empty corridor, his voice had a sad lowness, “–Do you still remember what we promised?”

Even if it’s just one sentence, please answer me, okay?

But no one answered.

Kokonoe Taka reached out and pressed it on the doorknob. He wanted to push open this door, look seriously into Yatsumotogi Suzume’s eyes, and tell him all his thoughts–but the moment he touched the cold metal, he retracted his hand like lightning.

“…Suzume, rest well.”

…

…………

The deathly silence floated in the hospital room as if there was no one there at all.

In the dimly lit room, a beam of light shone on the door through the window. That blurry black shadow moved and staggered as it leaned on the wall to stand up–it was a person.

Yatsumotogi Suzume silently and painstakingly returned to the cold bed.

He had countless opportunities to open the door that blocked them, to let himself out.

But with himself who said those words–what qualifications did he have to accept Kokonoe’s apology, what qualifications did he have to return to his side?

A long time later, a vague sob crossed the long time and distance and rolled onto the floor.

“The person who should say sorry…”

Is me.